


burning up like a fever

by Krewlak



Category: Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Genre: Bite sized angst, Multi, Post-Season/Series 03, Slow Burn, eventual OT3, major WIP warning, non-chronological storytelling
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-08-15
Updated: 2020-04-01
Packaged: 2020-09-01 10:20:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 10,109
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20256529
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Krewlak/pseuds/Krewlak
Summary: he doesn't know how they got here. he's trying to track the path but he keeps getting lost.[an unintentional character study]





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [scoutshonour](https://archiveofourown.org/users/scoutshonour/gifts).

> okay. 
> 
> look. 
> 
> here's the thing. 
> 
> I DON'T ACTUALLY KNOW WHAT I'M DOING WITH THIS. 
> 
> i am literally just posting this because i want feedback. i want this to turn into an ot3 fic. i know i can get it there but i'm very, very, very stuck with just this scene and nothing to go before or after it. i just have a lot of feelings and nothing i've read so far has really satisfied those feelings.
> 
> anyways....here's wonderwall....

“That’s not fair, Nancy!” Steve shouts, tugging on his hair. She flinches a little but he can tell by the tilt of her head that she’s not going to back down. Not that he expected her to. “You shut me out. Before everything that happened at the Byers’ place. Before we set a literal monster on fucking fire, you shut me out!”

“I did it to protect you!” Nancy snaps. 

She’d come to him. After the Byers had left town. After the mall renovation had begun. After Hop’s funeral. She’d come to him looking for a familiar face that could understand everything that they’d been through yet again. He has Robin and the kids but Nancy doesn’t have anyone and Steve remembers what it’s like to be alone with all this horror floating around in your head. 

“Bullshit,” Steve hisses, getting into her face. “That’s fucking bullshit and we both fucking know it. You didn’t even think about including me in any of it! You would have kept me out of it until it was all over and then hated me for not understanding.”

“That’s not true, Steve,” Nancy says through clenched teeth. 

He doesn’t know how they got  _ here  _ though. How they ended up yelling at each other after midnight in an empty parking lot. But now that they’re here, Steve can’t stop. He can’t stop the flow of words that he’s been actively shoving down to the bottom of his soul for the past seven months. 

Because this isn’t who he is anymore. He’s not the guy who yells at his ex over shit that doesn’t matter. He’s not the guy who holds grudges anymore. He’s supposed to be better than this after saving the world. Again.

“Then why didn’t you tell me? Why’d you keep it between you and Byers?” he asks, lowering his voice. 

It’s soft and sweet sounding and too much like his bedroom voice. He knows it and based on the way her eyes widen she knows it too. It’s not on purpose, of course. He’s still pissed. He doesn’t think he’s stopped being pissed since she hissed that he was bullshit at that stupid Halloween party.

“You wouldn’t have believed me,” Nancy says slowly but he can see the doubt in her eyes, can hear it in her words. “You would have called me crazy and made fun of me with Tommy and Carol.”

“And there it is,” Steve says with a nod. 

“There what is?” Nancy asks.

“You never trusted me,” Steve says, shaking his head. “You didn’t trust me the first time after Barb. You didn’t trust me to help you after Halloween. You didn’t trust me this last time with Billy and all the shit that happened at the mall.”

“Well,” Nancy says, inhaling sharply. “It’s not like you ever gave me a  _ reason _ to trust you, Steve.”

“What. The fuck. Is  _ that _ supposed to mean?” Steve grounds out. He knows what she means and he almost hisses out that word, almost throws it back into her face. 

_ Bullshit _ . 

He’d gone to her when the nightmares were too much and being in his big, empty house was too much. He’d held her in his arms when her own nightmares woke them both in the middle of the night. He’d held her while she cried and went to awkward dinners with Barb’s parents even though he didn’t know them. He’d done everything that she’d wanted in her own bullshit attempt to bury the trauma. 

“You never talked about it!” Nancy shouts. Steve jerks back like she slapped him. “You just acted like nothing fucking happened! You wanted to party and ignore Barb’s parents and buy a house and settle down! Not once did you ask me what I wanted!”

“And you never told me! You didn’t say anything until it was too fucking late!” Steve shouts back. This time she’s the one to jerk back like she’s been slapped. “I’m not some goddamn mind-reader! You wanted to be normal again, remember? That’s all I was trying to do! Be fucking normal.”

“How?” she asks. “How could anything ever be normal again after what we saw? How could you ever think that everything could just go back to what it was before?”

“I don’t know,” Steve groans. “I don’t fucking know but I, at least, was trying which is more than you can say.”

“Excuse me?” she says through clenched teeth. She glares at him through narrowed eyes, chest heaving with how angry she is.

“Jesus Christ, Nancy, I loved you. I loved you with everything I had. Excuse me that it wasn’t enough,” Steve says with a defeated laugh. “That  _ I _ wasn’t enough for you.”

“I never said that, Steve! You’re just assuming,” Nancy shoots back but her jaw is relaxing in a way that she doesn’t even believe what she’s saying. But it’s not an apology. It’s not her backing down either. “You’re just making excuses. Just spewing bullshit to cover up how you’re feeling.”

“There’s that fucking word again,” Steve says with a bitter laugh. 

“What?” she asks, jerking back and Steve continues to laugh. Of course she’s forgotten all over again. 

“Bullshit,” Steve says and there’s that affronted look again. A childish part of him wants to remind her that if she keeps making that face it’s bound to get stuck like that. Not that it would do anything to make her less beautiful than she already is.

“How long are you going to hold that night against me, Steve?” she asks in a pitifully quiet voice. 

“How long until you’re going to admit that your little rendezvous with Jonathan up to Murray’s was you cheating on me?” he asks in just as quiet of a voice. He puts his hands on hips and tries to stop his foot from tapping. Nancy’s mouth opens and closes without making any sound, without a defense for the first time since they started yelling at each other. Steve scoffs. “Why did you get back together with me, Nance? After Christmas? Why’d you take me back?”

She frowns in confusion as his sudden track change, mutters a simple, “What?”

“Why did you take me back, Nancy?” he asks slowly. He takes a step towards her, watches her spine straighten and her shoulders tilt back so that she can look up at him. He lowers his voice again so that it’s soft and sweet. “Why’d you call me? Why’d you come over to my place? Why’d you kiss me if you just thought I was bullshit? If you never fucking loved me why’d you do that?”

She doesn’t have an answer. He can see it in the way her eyes keep tracking over his face. Steve exhales loudly through his nose and nods once. He turns on his heel without another word and starts to walk home. Nancy calls after him but he doesn’t stop walking. He remembers walking away in that alley. Walking away after the demodogs. Walking away after the mall. Seems like all he’s capable of doing nowadays is walking away from Nancy Wheeler. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i guess now's a good time to say i haven't watched s2 or s3. but i plan on it. eventually. when i get around to it. *sigh* don't worry i'm rolling my eyes at myself so that you don't have to.
> 
> please please please PLEASE leave me comments. thoughts. applications to be a beta and scream with me over these characters. i'm on tumblr @vague--blogging.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> when you don't what you're doing with a fic and refuse to think about it too hard so you just post as soon as you feel like you've reached a good-ish stopping point. *does a dance that ends in jazz hands*

He traces it back. Back to the beginning. Not the very beginning. Not the classes spent staring at Nancy Wheeler’s perfect profile. After that. 

After the pool party. 

After smashing Beyers’s camera. 

After climbing up to Nancy’s room and getting his heart smashed.

After getting his face smashed in an alley to match the crunched bits of camera and his mangled heart.

After the smell of gas and burning flesh had filled his nostrils and made a permanent home in his nightmares. 

But before the hospital. 

Before slinking off to his empty house to wash the blood off his face. 

Before the days of hearing nothing from Nancy or Beyers. 

Before Christmas.

Its right after they set the monster on fire. The flames have gone out. The house is quiet. The lights stay on and Steve’s knees finally give out. He falls back onto his ass, the bat still clutched tightly in his hands. He’s panting and he can’t tear his eyes away from the black spot in the middle of the hallway. 

Nancy drops a hand to his shoulder and he jerks back like she slapped him. She doesn’t pull away though, just curls her fingers into the collar of his shirt. Her nails scrape against his skin but he barely even feels it. Jonathan falls down onto his ass a moment later, knees pulled up to his chest. He wraps his long arms around his shins and rests his head on his knee, exhaling in a shaky laugh. 

“What the fuck was that?” Steve finally asks, breaking the silence. He looks up at Nancy but she’s looking at Jonathan and he’s looking at her. They’re having a silent conversation that Steve isn’t a part of. He can’t find it in himself to question it. Not when he can’t keep his eyes from nervously darting back to where the monster had gone up in flames. “Seriously. I came here to apologize to Beyers and instead there’s that . . . thing and no one is fucking explaining anything to me.”

“Steve,” Nancy says with a sigh. She squeezes his shoulder again and he looks up at her. There’s a tiny wrinkle between her eyebrows and Steve already knows that she’s trying to come up with a lie. Something to smooth everything over. 

“Don’t lie to me, Nance,” Steve snaps, holding a hand up. “I just helped you set a literal monster on fire so don’t you fucking lie to me again.”

“Again?” 

“Softball, huh?” he asks, waving the bat in front of him. Jonathan snorts and Steve turns his glare on him. His head is still resting on his knees so he misses it but Steve doesn’t let up. “And what the fuck happened to your house, Byers? Why the fuck is there a hole in your wall? And the Christmas lights ouija board?”

“Fuck you, Harrington,” Jonathan mumbles. He looks up finally with tired eyes that don’t flinch under the heat of Steve’s glare. “What are you even doing here?”

“Were you not listening?” Steve snaps. Whatever patience he might have had at one point is entirely gone in the face of everything. “I came to apologize for the shit that I said today and _ instead _ what I got was,” he waves quickly at everything around him, “all of this _ shit _.”

“Steve,” Nancy says with a sigh. She sits down next to him and loops her arm through his. She doesn’t lean into him, doesn’t touch him other than their elbows curled around each other. “It’s . . . it’s just really complicated.”

“I think I can handle complicated,” he mutters, shaking his head. He still hasn’t let go of the bat. He doesn’t think he could right now. “As long as complicated gives me an explanation then I’ll fucking take it.”

Nancy sighs and bites her bottom lip before she starts telling the story. How it starts with Will Beyers going missing and then Barb. About the other world that Nancy and Jonathan explored the night he saw them through the window. About the little girl from the science lab who, apparently, has magic powers. About the monster that killed Barb, that’s been hunting Will, that they’d just set on fucking fire. 

Jonathan doesn’t say anything while Nancy spins the tale. And Steve takes a page from his book, keeping his mouth shut for once in his life. He doesn’t think he could add anything to this conversation other than the odd hum that he’d heard what Nancy was saying. 

He doesn’t miss the way Nancy’s cut hand reaches for Jonathan when she describes the other world that they’d explored. The way her voice goes a little soft when she talks about how Jonathan _ understood _ what she was going through. About how they both had someone they were trying to save. How they came up with this plan to kill the monster together. 

And Steve gets it. He wasn’t there. He doesn’t know. He thought that Barb had run away and that the Beyers family were a bunch of quacks just like everyone else in this fucking town. But that flare of jealousy that had shot through him when he’d looked into her bedroom to see Beyers there still burns hot at how close they are, how out of the loop Steve is. 

“So where’s your brother now?” Steve asks when Nancy finishes and the silence is stretching out for too long.

“What do you care?” Jonathan snaps but Steve can tell by the way his eyes widen and how he looks down immediately after that he doesn’t mean it that way. Not that Steve would really blame him if he did. 

“We don’t know,” Nancy answers for Jonathan. “Hopper and Mrs. Beyers were going to go to the lab. See if they could get into that other place and get Will out.”

“Mom would call,” Jonathan chimes in. “She’d call if they’d found him.”

“Do they even know you’re here?” Steve asks. They both look at him with wide eyes and Steve rolls his eyes. “Jesus, Beyers, what if I hadn’t been here to save your ass? What then?”

“Save my ass?” Jonathan sputters. “When was that? When you were screaming about how crazy this all was or when you hauled ass out the door?”

“I came back, asshole!” Steve shouts, waving the bat back and forth again. There’s no heat in his voice and, despite how insane everything’s been, Steve is smiling like he’s old friends with Beyers. Like Beyers hadn’t beaten his face in earlier that day. “Or have you forgotten who got that thing off of you?”

Jonathan stares at Steve for a long silent minute before his face breaks into a crooked grin and a laugh rumbles out of his chest. It's not long before Steve is laughing along with him, eyes squeezing shut and sides aching. Steve leans into Nancy out of habit, pressing his bloody face into her shoulder. She presses her cheek to the top of his head and, for a beautiful minute, everything feels right. It feels good. 

And then the phone rings. 

And it all comes rushing back and the moment is gone and they’re piling into Steve’s car and rushing to the hospital and Nancy and Jonathan are leaping out before Steve can even put the car in park. He follows them in. He sits in the hall next to a slumbering Mr Wheeler. He watches and he waits and then he slips out without being noticed.

And then he’s alone. 

And he stays that way.

For weeks.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> shout out to everyone who left kudos! double shout out for those of you who left comments! y'all are the true mvps.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> not thinking too hard before posting this (i think that's becoming a habit, don't you?). i hope you enjoy!

“So what’s this I hear about you making Wheeler cry?” Robin asks when he walks into work the next day after his fight with Nancy. She raises her eyebrow and smirks a little. “Didn’t think you had it in you, dingus.”

“How can you possibly know about it already?” Steve mumbles, running a hand through his hair. “And she didn’t cry.”

“That’s not what Mike said,” Robin replies with an easy shrug. She pops her gum because she knows it gets under his skin and rests an elbow on the check-out counter. “You must have turned your walkie off to have missed that little meltdown.”

“When did you get a walkie?” Steve asks, raising his eyebrows. That’s a big deal. An official invitation into the Party. There’s been a three day long argument between Dustin, Lucas, and Mike when Dustin had given Steve one.

“Max gave me El’s old one,” Robin says with a shrug. “Don’t change the subject!”

“And what was the subject?” Steve replies, playing dumb. Robin groans and drops her forehead down onto the counter. “Look, for the record, she fucking started it.”

“You know if you want to win back your ex-girlfriend you might want to try and  _ not _ fight with her,” Robin mutters. She turns her head to look at him, keeping her cheek pressed against the counter. “Definitely don’t make her fucking cry. Jesus, Steve.”

“She wasn’t crying when I left,” Steve mutters. He pins on his nametag and starts to sort through the returned tapes pile. “She was just pissed off.”

“Did you cry?”

Steve doesn’t give her a verbal response, just glaring at her over his shoulder. She’s just smiling. That shit eating grin that he can’t help but smile back at. Robin spins around and hops up on the counter, crossing her arms. Steve copies her stance, leaning back against the returned tapes bin. They stare at each other for a long minute before Robin groans and covers her face, “You’re fucking hopeless, you know that?”

“Says you,” Steve replies, flipping her off. “Remind me who’s actually gone out with a girl and who hasn’t?”

“That is  _ so _ not what we’re talking about right now,” Robin says, shaking her head. “We are talking about you and your hopelessness not me and my inexperience.”

“Well how can you judge me when you’ve got, like, zero notches on your belt?” Steve asks, hoping that his comment about notches will distract her enough to drop it. 

“You can’t distract me with assholery, Harrington,” Robin snaps without hesitation. “It won’t work.”

“Fine. But, for the record, I’m not trying to get back together with Nancy,” Steve continues. “That ship has sailed and she’s with Jonathan.”

“Jonathan who doesn’t live in Hawkins anymore,” Robin reminds him.

“So what? I’m sure they talk on the phone all the time,” Steve says, waving his hand at her. “You don’t even like Nancy!”

“I like Nancy!” Robin shouts. 

“You do not!”

“Do too!”

“Do not!”

“Do too!” Robin snaps as she jumps off the counter and pokes him in the chest. “But more importantly is that  _ you  _ like Nancy, dingus. You  _ love _ her!”

“It doesn’t matter how I feel and I don’t love her. Not anymore, I’ve told you that,” Steve says through clenched teeth. “And she made her choice. She didn’t love me, didn’t want to be with me anymore. She loved Jonathan and wanted him and it’s fucking fine.”

“Did she say that she didn’t love you?” Robin asks, ready to fight for him already. “Is that what you two were fighting about?” 

“She didn’t have to say it, Robs,” Steve says, going back to sorting tapes. He creates a stack that he balances in his hands as he goes to put them away. “Pretty sure how everything played out made it pretty clear that she didn’t. And no. That’s not what we were fighting about.”

“Then what was it?” Robin asks, trailing after him. She takes over shelving the tapes while he holds them for her. “I mean, Mike wasn’t big on the details. Not that I trust that little twerp to not being totally biased when it comes to you.”

“Yeah, little Wheeler has never been a fan,” Steve says, rolling his eyes. He knows he’s smiling though. Even if Mike’s animosity can be annoying, it’s fun at the same time. He remembers being just as big of a smart ass when he was the same age. “It was just. Fuck. It was just some stuff that we should have said a year ago. Doesn’t really do a lot of good now, though.”

“Fuck that,” Robin hisses. She’s got that wild, defensive look in her eye that makes him feel warm on the inside. It’s the look she threw at a Russian guard when he got rough with Steve. It’s the look she gave Nancy and Jonathan the first time she met them, clutching to Steve’s forearm and ready to shove him behind her if need be. “Yes. You should have probably had it out a year ago instead of walking away from the girl you loved like a dumbass. But don’t ever feel bad about being honest about your shit, Harrington.”

“Jesus, Buckley,” Steve says, trying to laugh instead of burst into tears. “Remind me to never get on your bad side.”

“Damn straight,” she says with a nod. Her face softens a little and she watches Steve through her bangs. “You’re seriously okay though?”

“Dude,” Steve says, slapping a cocky grin on his face. “I’m always okay. Haven’t you figured that out by now?”

Robin watches his for another long minute and he can see the gears turning in her mind. It reminds him of Nancy actually. Steve is sure that she’s gearing up for a pep talk that he doesn’t think he’d make it through without crying. He doesn’t want to cry in a video rental store. Not this early in his shift at least. 

He’s saved by the bell though when a customer walks through the door. She sighs and narrows her eyes at the unnamed person. She pats the stack of tapes in Steve’s hands and makes her way back to the counter, leaving Steve by himself. 

He lets out a slow breath and tries to stop the way has been beating faster and faster the more they talked about Nancy and Jonathan. He hates that he reacts this way, hates that he still thinks about her, about them after a year. It’s stupid and it’s bullshit and he’s stepped away like a good fucking person is supposed to. He wasn’t supposed to be angry and sad and heartbroken anymore. 

Steve groans and shakes his head as if that’ll shake the thoughts out. It won’t work. He knows it won’t work but it definitely doesn’t stop him from trying. 


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i didn't actually intend to up the rating on this? but it happened anyways? and i'm not sorry about it? lol. 
> 
> and i promise jonathan is going to show up eventually. he will. he has to, right? 
> 
> as usual - un'beta'd and unproofread cause i'm lazy.

It keeps happening. This thing. This rotating thing that bounces between the three of them. It keeps happening and Steve keeps letting it. 

It started in the Byers living room by setting a monster on fire. 

It continues when Steve buys a camera that Nancy gives to Jonathan because Steve can’t do it himself. 

It ends when Jonathan spends that first lunch in the darkroom instead of sitting with them. He does it the first lunch and then the second and then the third. By the fourth Nancy loses the anxious tilt to her head, stops watching the cafeteria door for his lanky frame, and throws herself full-heartedly into being better than she was before. 

Steve knows that she thinks he doesn’t notice. He does. 

Steve knows that she thinks he doesn’t care. He does. 

He does so much it twists his stomach into knots but if she isn’t going to say anything then he isn’t going to say anything. He’s going to be normal because he’s good at being normal. He’s good at pretending, at pushing it to the back of his mind and not examining it anymore. 

It doesn’t stop him from knocking on her window the first time he has a nightmare though. 

She opens the window with a frown and dark circles under her eyes. He doesn’t think she’s been sleeping well either. She doesn’t tell him about what’s keeping her awake this late on a school night but when he climbs through the window he sees the handgun clutched tightly in her tiny fist. He raises his eyebrows and tries to make a joke, “Is that a pistol or are you just happy to see me, Wheeler?”

“You scared me,” she mumbles, turning her back on him and quickly hiding it in her panty drawer. “What are you doing here, Steve? My parents could wake up any minute.”

“Just missed you,” he whispers back before cupping her face and kissing her. She sighs into his mouth and the tension that’s been running up his back since he woke up in a cold sweat finally relaxes. She grips his wrists and kisses him back for a moment before giggling a little and turning her head. He settles for leaning his forehead against her temple and just breathing her in. “What? I can’t miss you.”

“I saw you this afternoon, Steve Harrington,” Nancy says with a smile that tells him that she’s not nearly as annoyed as she should be. He takes that for the win that it is and flops back onto her bed, toeing off his sneakers and holding his arms open for her. She crawls onto the bed and snuggles into his embrace. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

“Perfectly okay,” he replies into her hair. She squeezes him a little, arm tight around his waist and her leg thrown over her thighs. “Just sleep better here. You know that.”

“I know,” she mumbles into his chest. He’s falling asleep, limbs warm and fuzzy when she speaks again. “You know you can talk to me.”

“I talk to you all the time, Nance,” Steve replies. He knows what she’s saying though. What she’s asking without really asking. “Pretty sure you’ve said that I talk too much.”

“You do talk too much,” she says and he can hear the smirk and the eye roll in her voice. He can’t help but laugh softly, pressing his mouth to her hair to try and muffle the sound. “You talk and you talk but you don’t really say anything, Steve.”

“Geeze, Nance, don’t hold back any punches,” Steve says. He tries to laugh it off again but there’s still just the hint of hurt in his words. He shouldn’t be hurt. Shouldn’t be anything other than ruefully annoyed like he is everytime someone implies that he’s nothing but an easy smile and hair products. But it’s Nancy and it’s different and it fucking stings. “What is it that I’m supposed to saying?”

“Just,” she huffs before sitting up and staring at him with her big doe eyes. But she’s frowning and Steve knows enough to give her time to figure out what it is that she wants to say. He does reach up to tuck a strand of hair that’s freed itself from her braid behind her ear. She leans into his hand a little and he knows that she’s not as mad at him as her frown would imply. “You can tell me anything, Steve. Anything. And I’ll listen. I promise.”

“I know you will, Nancy Wheeler,” he says with a shrug. “I just. I got nothing to say. But once I do, you’re the first person I’m coming to. Scout’s honor.”

It’s not enough though. He can tell by the way her face scrunches up a little tighter and her eyes get glassy. He reaches out to pull her back down to him but she bats his hand away, “After everything that’s happened. After . . . after  _ losing _ Barb. I just. You aren’t alone in this, Steve. I’m here. I’m right here.”

“Hey, hey,” Steve mumbles, sitting up and finally pulling her to his chest. She climbs into his lap and presses her face to his neck. He can feel the tears against his neck and rubs a hand up and down her back. “I’m here, too, Nance. I’m always here for you. I’m not going anywhere and we’ll get through this. I know we will. I know  _ you _ will.”

It doesn’t stop her crying, doesn’t do anything but make her cling to him harder. He’s a little lost, a little unsure on what to do. He just keeps rubbing her back and kissing the top of her head and whispering comforting little phrases that he remembers from when his mom used to rock him to sleep after a nightmare. Eventually her tears come to a stop and she pulls away, rubbing at her puffy red eyes. Steve swipes his thumb under her eye, wiping away another stray tear, “You’re beautiful, Nancy Wheeler.”

“You’re an idiot, Steve Harrington,” Nancy replies but there isn’t any fondness in her voice that he’d gotten used to. She kisses him though and slides her hand under his shirt, scraping her nails down his stomach. She looks at him through her lashes and kisses his jaw. “But you’re my idiot.”

“Always,” he replies before cupping her jaw and kissing her soundly. 

She kisses him back, hard and closed-mouth and borderline painful. Steve gives back just as much force, biting at her lips and tugging on her hair. She groans into his mouth and straddles his thigh. When she starts to rock against him, Steve moans and opens his mouth wider to let her tongue explore. 

It’s not right. How quickly she went from angry to crying to chasing an orgasm against his thigh. It’s not Nancy. Not really but he doesn’t pull away, doesn’t stop her, because this is what he knows. This is what he’s good at. Hands and tongues and groaning lust that claws its way through his chest. He can do this. He can give her this for as long as she wants. And it might not make whatever hurt that’s still living inside them any better but, at the very least, it’ll make them forget it.

He rolls her over and slides his hand into her underwear, sliding two fingers along her wetness and circling her clit. She hisses and twitches until he slides those fingers in her, curling upwards and pressing his palm to her clit. Nancy’s mouth falls open and she covers her face with the crook of her elbow and that just won’t do. Not at all. He reaches up and pries her arm away, pinning it to her side so that he can see her blown wide eyes, “There’s my girl.”

“Steeeeve,” she whines, drawing his name out and hitching it at the end when he thrusts his fingers into her a little faster. He leans down to kiss her, stuttering just a bit when her free hand reaches for his boner through his sweatpants. “There’s my guy.”

“Always yours, Nance,” he murmurs, taking her teasing too seriously. They struggle to get their pants pushed down and underwear out of the way and a condom rolled down onto him so that he can sink into her with a desperate sigh. He keeps her arm pinned to her side, keeps staring into her wide blue eyes until she squeezes them shut and tilts her head back with a groan. Steve sighs and slows his thrusts, rotating his hips in a gentle circle so that he’s grinding against her clit. “Come on, Nance. Come on.”

“I can’t. Fuck, Steve, I can’t,” she whispers and he can hear the tears in her voice again. He presses a kiss to the underside of her jaw and trails his mouth along the column of her neck. He thrusts into her, barely pulling out, barely giving her clit a reprieve from the constant pressure. She shouldn't be crying, shouldn’t be hurting through this anymore. He bites the spot where her shoulder meets her neck and she gasps loudly, too loud for the late hour. She wiggles her hand free and clutches at the back of his head, covers her mouth with her other hand to try and muffle the sounds that are slipping free. He barely understands her when she pleads with him through her palm. “Please, Steve. God. Please.”

He doesn’t need to be told twice. He increases his pace, not caring that her bed is starting to squeak, not caring that his own groans are getting too loud. He presses his mouth to her skin, squeezes her hips and tries to count to one hundred using only even numbers just to keep himself from shooting his load before she’s done. 

Her breath hitches in her throat and he can feel how hard her nipples are through her sleepshirt. Her legs kick on the bed, scrambling for purchases before she wraps them around his waist and pulling him into her and keeping her there. She flutters around his dick, coming in shuddering moments of tension, and he’s done for, coming hard, and groaning out an “I love you” that he hadn’t been planning on saying. 

He keeps his eyes tilted away as he rolls off of her, letting her get cleaned up without his desperate eyes watching her every move. He ties up the condom, wraps it in a tissue and grimaces as he shoves it into the pocket of his sweats. The last thing Nancy needs is her mom finding a used condom in her trash. 

His head is ringing with the words that he’d said against her salty skin. He’d never said it before. Not to a girl. Not to someone that isn’t family. Not to someone that he actually felt that way before. It’s not something that gets thrown around a lot in the Harrington house so the feeling and the words are foreign to him. But he knows that Nancy is in the same boat, knows that she lives in a house where ‘I love you’ isn’t tossed about easily and effortlessly like it’s supposed to be. 

“You don’t have to say it back,” he murmurs without turning around. He feels her still next to him on the bed, hears her breath catch. She had probably been expecting him to ignore that it happened. “But I mean it. I love you, Nancy Wheeler. It’s not. It’s not just a heat of the moment thing for me but if you. If you don’t. Yet. Then I get it.”

“You’re an idiot, Steve Harrington,” she says after a long minute of silence. She presses a kiss to the back of his neck but she doesn’t say it back and there’s a part of him that can’t help but be disappointed. 

“And you are beautiful, Nancy Wheeler,” he replies, pushing that disappointed part of himself as far down as he can. He can wait for her. He can and he will and it’ll be totally worth it.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> told you jonathan would show up again. ;)
> 
> unbeta'd and unproofread as usual.

“If you dipshits drop any fucking food on the carpet you’re all dead meat!” Steve shouts over his shoulder as he limps towards the front door. 

He gets a chorus of groans and false assurances that does nothing to reduce the amount of regret he’s feeling at the moment. He should have known that letting Dustin come by to make sure he hadn’t gone into a coma after the fight with Billy would eventually lead to the entire gang of them tagging along. They’re pack animals, incapable of doing anything on their own and, frankly, it still freaks him out that he’s somehow become part of that pack. 

“I’m serious, Dustin! They’re your friends! Keep ‘em in line!” Steve is still shouting as he opens the door. Jonathan is standing on the other side, finger poised to ring the doorbell again. Steve damn near chokes on whatever it was he was shouting about at the sight of him. “Byers. What are . . . I mean. What’s up?”

He can’t help the way his heart starts to pound in his chest. They haven’t talked. They haven’t talked in almost a year. Even after shutting the portal. After Billy and fighting off another fucking monster, he hasn’t had a one-on-one conversation with Jonathan. Especially not in the wake of Nancy. 

“Just dropping Will off,” Jonathan mumbles, stepping to the side to reveal his younger brother. There are circles still under his eyes and Will won’t meet Steve’s eye but he’s standing on his own and Steve’ll take that as the win it is. “Mom figured since he was going to be with you, he’d be good to leave the house.”

“I’m sure you can hear them already, little Byers,” Steve says, waving a hand behind him. “Just follow the noise and you’ll find ‘em setting up your game or whatever.”

“Thanks,” he says, voice soft. He peeks a look at Jonathan, raising both eyebrows and silently asking for permission. Jonathan just ruffles his hair and earns himself an eye roll that Steve is getting very familiar with from the other little shits. “I’ll call you when I’m ready to head home.”

“No worries,” Steve says automatically. “I can drive you home.”

“Is Will here!?!?” Dustin screams from the dining room. Steve can hear the rush of feet of stampeding down the hall and he pinches the bridge of his nose, resting a hand on his hip. “Steve! Why didn’t you say anything? We’ve been waiting for forever!”

“You’ve only been here, like, twenty minutes,” Steve grumbles as Dustin slides into him. He can feel Jonathan’s eyes on him the whole time but Steve refuses to give in and look back. “And what did I say about sliding on the hardwood? You’re going to fall and break your arm and then what am I supposed to tell your mom?”

“Don’t worry. You stopped me,” Dustin mutters, patting Steve on the arm. He smiles at Jonathan, squinty-eyed and bright. It’s hard to believe that only a week ago they were fighting off demo-dogs and trying not to die. “Will, you have to run crowd control with Mike. He’s insisting on an Aboleth. I told him he’s nuts. Especially since Max’s character is so new and we don’t know what she can do.”

“He just can’t give us a break, can he?” Will mutters, shaking his head. Dustin loops his arm around Will’s neck and drags him down the hallway. “Bye, Jonathan!”

“See ya!” Jonathan calls after him, waving even though Will isn’t paying attention. Steve waits for him to turn on his heel and head back to his car but he doesn’t. He just shoves his hands into his pockets, elbows sticking out and shoulders hunched up around his ears. “So.”

“So,” Steve repeats. He raises his eyebrows and waits for Jonathan to say something else. He does his best not to flinch with the motion tugs on his stitches a little too hard. Another long awkward minute passes before Steve deflates. He scratches at the back of his neck and waves Jonathan into the house. “Fuck it, dude. Just come inside. It’s cold and shit.”

“I don’t . . . I don’t want to intrude or anything,” Jonathan mumbles but he steps into the house anyways. Steve shuts the door behind him and pushes Jonathan in the direction of the kitchen. “Seriously, I just want to make sure Will is, like, settled or whatever.”

“You’re a shit liar, Byers,” Steve says. “Seriously. Has anyone told you that before?” 

“Maybe once or twice,” Jonathan mumbles. He leans back against the counter, feigning a casualness that Steve knows is intensely practiced. Nothing about him is natural at that moment. “I just wanted to see how you’re doing?”

“Other than another round of stitches, I have a clean bill of health,” Steve says. Jonathan raises his eyebrows and Steve knows that he wasn’t asking about that. Doesn’t mean that Steve has to acknowledge the Nancy shaped elephant in the room. He’s a known airhead and he fully intends to use that to his advantage right now. “Besides, all the little shitheads keep checking in on me with my parents out of town again. They’re convinced that I have brain damage and am going to suffocate in my sleep or something.”

“They care,” Jonathan says with a shrug. “You’re basically their hero after the thing with Billy.”

“Yeah, well, not like I stopped him or anything,” Steve mutters. He rubs a hand over his face, flinches when the action pulls on his stitches. “Max is the hero of the hour on that one. Little redhead was terrifying according to Dustin.”

Jonathan laughs a little, eyes scrunching up in amusement. Steve finds himself smiling along and does nothing to stop it. He might not be friends with Jonathan but that doesn’t mean he can’t find some common ground with the guy. Especially if he ignored all the bad shit that lived between them. The moment of solidarity doesn’t last long though. Jonathan’s face smoothes out, eyes growing serious and distant. 

“We should probably talk,” he says slowly. Steve stands up a little straighter, making Jonathan look up at him. “About, you know, Nancy.”

“There’s nothing to talk about.”

“But there is,” Jonathan insists, shaking his head. “You know there is.”

“There  _ really _ isn’t,” Steve groans. He runs a hand through his hair, grips his hip with the other, and tries the same no-nonsense stare that he liked to pretend worked on the kids. “Nancy and me. We, fuck, we didn’t work and she was the one who had the balls to call me on it. So, whatever happened between us. It’s not on you, Byers.”

“We slept together,” Jonathan says in a rush and it’s like getting punched in the gut all over again. Steve feels the air rush out of him, feels himself shrink in on himself, losing whatever height he’d had over Jonathan a moment ago. “When we went to Bauman for information. Things got. They got heated and we slept together and just. You deserve to know.”

“Thanks?” Steve asks. He’s trying to play it off as a joke but his voice is hollowed out and sad sounding even to his own ears. Jonathan’s face drops and, for a long minute, Steve thinks Jonathan might just start crying. He laughs, fake and loud and so fucking annoying that he can’t stand himself for a minute, just to lay on the joke-ness of the moment as thick as he can. “Seriously, dude. We were basically done after Halloween. I don’t need you to explain anything to me. In fact, I’d rather you didn’t.”

“I just,” Jonathan starts before cutting himself off. He exhales loudly through his nose and draws his shoulder up to his ears. For a wild moment, Steve pictures him as a turtle, trying to escape an awkward situation, and it takes everything in him not to laugh again. Maybe he did get brain damage from Billy like the kids keep saying. “You’re always around the kids. And Will likes you. Like, genuinely likes you and thinks you’re cool and I don’t want it to be awkward all the time. Not in front of him, you know? Cause he needs this - need somewhere he can go where he’s treated like a normal kid and we try. My mom and me. We try but it’s not the same.”

“Trust me, Byers,” Steve says. “No matter whatever . . . bullshit goes on between us, I’m not taking it out of Will. He’s been through enough, right?”

“Right. Right, of course,” Jonathan agrees quickly. His cheeks are a little pink and Steve wonders if he meant to give his little speech about Will needing a safe space. Probably not. He probably hadn’t meant to say anything about what happened when they went to see Bauman. “Well. I should go. Nancy - I mean. I have plans and I don’t want to be late.”

“Of course,” Steve says with a nod. He waves his hand towards the dining room where they can hear the kids laughing and shouting at each other. “And, seriously, don’t worry about picking Will up. I have to give the rest of them rides home. I can do the same for him.”

“Thanks, Steve,” Jonathan says. Steve can tell he means it for more than playing taxi cab for his brother. 

Steve just nods in reply and waits for Jonathan to finally leave the kitchen and the house. Steve relaxes against the counter as soon as the sound of the front door reaches his ears. His heart starts to pound and he thinks he’s going to be sick. Leave to Byers to ruin whatever fucking calm he’d managed to achieve in a piss-poor but well-intentioned attempt at being a good guy. Steve ignores the stitches and the bruises and the pounding headache that’s starting to creep up the back of his head, pressing the heel of his palm into his eyes and rubbing hard. 

He’s not going to cry with the shitheads only a few feet away. He’s fucking not going to do it.

“Steve! Can you bring us some sodas?” Dustin hollers through the halls. “We’re dying of thirst in here!”

Steve chuckles under his breath and takes a long, deep breath before yelling back, “Come get it yourself, you shit! I’m not your fucking maid!”

“Watch your language, dipshit! We’re minors in here!” Dustin yells back but Steve can hear the sounds of their socked feet on the hardwood all the same. And it’s good to have the house full of noise and laughter. It’s good and it’s distracting and it’s exactly what Steve needs and he’ll do whatever he can to keep it this way until he doesn’t need to be distracted from the bullshit in his life anymore.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> boop-de-boop! i'm still writing this! <3

“Do you ever think about getting out of Hawkins?” Robin asks as she passes the joint to him. She doesn’t look at him, keeps her eyes on the stars above them. Steve is used to her acting this way when she’s stoned. Eye contact is hard. He gets it. 

“Not anymore,” Steve mutters before taking a hit. The smoke curls up into the sky and he tries to trace the way it seems to wrap around the stars. “Kind of screwed the pooch on that one, Robs.”

“What are you talking about?”

“I mean,” Steve says with a shrug that he knows she can’t see. “I didn’t get into any schools. My dad cut me off. Fuck. I work in a video store. Kind of speaks for itself, you know?”

“Fuck,” Robin mutters, holding her hand out for the joint. He takes another hit just to spite her and she punches him in the shoulder. “Don’t be greedy.”

“Don’t be impatient,” he says back with a giggle before holding it out for her. “What’s bringing this on, Robs? You thinking about graduation?”

“Yeah,” she says softly. Her fingers brush against his own as she takes the joint. He grips her hand when she switches to her left hand to take a deep drag. The quiet between them stretches out as she holds the smoke in but it feels thick with something that Steve doesn’t have the capacity to comprehend. “My parents want me to go to IU. Stay close, you know?”

“But what do you want?” Steve asks. He gets parental expectations, gets what it’s like to want to be your own person but not disappoint. 

“I kind of want to go to California,” Robin says. She doesn’t sound too sure of it though. “Maybe New York. Or Provincetown.”

“Provincetown?”

“Yeah, Provincetown,” she confirms without explaining further. She hands the joint back to Steve and he takes another hit, repeating the name under his breath. “Basically anywhere I can go where, you know, I can be me. More me. You know?”

“Yeah,” he says around the joint. “Yeah, I get that.”

“But you know my mom,” Robins says with a sigh. “It was hard enough to get her to back off so that I could get the job at Scoops. I can’t see her being too cool with me moving to the coast.”

“Not like you have to ask her permission, you know,” Steve points out. It’s another thing he’s well-acquainted with. Doing first and asking forgiveness later. Robin just shrugs and holds her free hand out again. The joint is little more than a roach at that point but he passes it over anyways. “What’s in Provincetown?”

“It’s cool, man,” Robin says. “All artsy and, like, free. Way freer than the midwest, that’s for sure. And it’s the beach and Women’s Week. For people like me.”

“Oh,” Steve says, nodding. “That’s cool.”

“I know,” she says and he can picture her rolling her eyes. “Never going to happen though.”

“Hey,” Steve snaps. He sits up and his head spins for a second before he turns to look down at Robin. Her hair is spread out on the blanket they’d dragged up to her roof and she’s never looked more beautiful or more freaked out. He leans over her and cups her cheek, ignoring the way she tenses like he’s going to kiss her or something equally as stupid. “You’re, like, the smartest person in Hawkins. Other than Nancy, you know? And you’re brave and way better under pressure than I am and you can do whatever you fucking want, Robin Buckley.”

“Is this your attempt at a pep talk?” Robin mutters, narrowing her eyes at him. “Are you  _ that _ stoned?”

“Shut up, dude, I’m trying to be a good friend here,” Steve groans before rolling back onto his back. He throws his arm over his eyes and tries to reclaim whatever high he’d been feeling only a minute ago. He knew he should have rolled more than one joint. 

“I’m sorry!” Robin says, pulling his arm away from his face. She’s sitting up and smiling down at him, knees pulled up to her chest and her cheeks still faintly pink. “I’m sorry. Please. Continue.”

“You can do anything you want, Robs,” Steve says, voice soft and sweet and as serious as he’s capable of being without an apocalypse looming. “Fuck your parents and Hawkins and expectations. Just go out there and do whatever it is that’s going to make you happy, yeah?”

“Those are some big words, Harrington,” Robin says slowly. She’s got that wide-eyed look and Steve knows it had nothing to do with the weed. “Should probably take your own advice.”

“What makes you think I’m not happy?” Steve asks, knowing that it’s a stupid question. “I got you. Got a job. Got the kids. Got my car. What about that doesn’t spell out happy?”

“Man, I thought you were full of it in high school,” Robin says with a laugh that’s nowhere near being jovial. “It’s gotten way worse since you graduated. Different kind of shit but still definitely full of it.”

Steve puts a hand to his chest and tilts his head back, “You wound me, Robs. You wound me.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Robin mutters before laying back down. She rests her head against his shoulder and Steve wraps his arm around her shoulders without thinking. “You’re my best friend, Steve. Just like you want me to be happy, I want the same thing for you.”

“I’m fine, Robin,” Steve says with a shrug that jostles her head. “Cross my heart and everything.”

“What did you want to do after graduation?” Robin asks, changing tactics. “I bet it had nothing to do with staying in fucking Hawkins and working at a video store.”

“Maybe not but that doesn’t mean it’s a bad gig or anything,” Steve mutters. Robin pokes him in his stomach until he finally cracks and sighs. “Fine. Fine. Wanted to get out. Didn’t know where. Didn’t know what I wanted to do. Just wanted to be away, you know?”

“Yeah, I know,” Robin says with the same longing that’s managed to slip into his own voice. “Was Nancy with you?”

“You know she was,” Steve replies, voice barely above a whisper. But Robin hears him. Of course she does. 

“You know you can still be her friend,” Robin says slowly. “I know that things were shitty this summer and then even shittier after your fight but that was months ago. I bet she’s missing you just as much as you’re missing her.”

“It’s never that simple, Robs,” Steve replies. “Besides, don’t really think I want to be just friends, you know?”

“So, you’re finally admitting it?” Robin asks. 

“Doesn’t hurt, right? Saying it out loud?” Steve says. He runs his hand through his hair and actively thinks about cutting it for the first time in a year. “She’s leaving town after graduation. Finding her happily-ever-after with Jonathan.”

“You’re such a dipshit,” Robin says, stealing Dustin’s favorite nickname for him. Steve rolls his eyes but doesn’t snap back at her. She knows him well enough to know what he’s doing and pokes him in the stomach again. “You are! But I’m not going to fight with you about it. Not tonight.”

“No,” Steve agrees. “Not tonight.”


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i have not forgotten this fic!

“You know you can’t avoid them the entire time he’s in town, right?” Dustin asks as he watches Steve move around the kitchen. Steve doesn’t even acknowledge that the kid is speaking. “Like, eventually, you’re going to run into them. You know. Together.”

“What’s your point, shithead?” Steve mutters. He opens the fridge and sniffs the milk. He shrugs and takes a long swig. Dustin gags behind him but it just makes Steve drink a little longer. “And, for the record, I’m not avoiding them.”

“Then why don’t you explain to me why you haven’t left your house since they got back?” Dustin asks, raising his eyebrows and smirking like he said something profound. Steve scoffs and rolls his eyes. “I mean, yeah, you’ve seen Will cause we dragged him over here but you definitely haven’t seen Jonathan and, by extension, you haven’t seen Nancy either.”

“Since when do you keep track of my life like this?” Steve asks, frowning a little. “I know I gave you dating advice like once but I didn’t think it would turn you into a little stalker.”

“I’m your best friend and you know it, dipshit,” Dustin snaps. Steve scoffs and reaches out to grab the hat off Dustin’s head. Dustin knows Steve well enough to know what’s about to pull and ducks out of the way. “You can’t distract me, you know. I know what I’m talking about.”

“You don’t know shit,” Steve says, waving a hand at him. “You’re a kid.”

“A kid who has fought monsters and had a longer relationship than you,” Dustin points out. Steve scoffs, tries to laugh it off, but he knows that he’s not very believable. “And since I am your best friend and only a minor with his whole life ahead of him you can’t murder me.”

Steve narrows his eyes at Dustin, slowing down his movements until he’s staring at the shithead entirely still. Dustin fidgets a little, face turning red, before he finally hops down from the counter and rushes out of the kitchen, shouting over his shoulder, “Nancy and Jonathan are bringing Will and Mike and El over and I told them that they should stay for dinner.”

“You little,” Steve grumbles before chasing after him into the living room. Dustin jumps onto the couch and covers his face with a pillow but it doesn’t stop Steve from pulling the kid into a headlock. “Couldn’t just mind your own business, could you?”

“You need friends your own age!” Dustin chokes out, struggling against Steve. He kicks Steve in the shin, elbows him in the side, and pries his fingers into the crook of Steve’s elbow. It’s enough for Steve’s hold to loosen and for Dustin to wiggle around until he’s facing Steve, hitting him in the head with a pillow. “You can’t keep hanging around with a bunch of high schoolers.”

“You’re barely a high schooler!” Steve shouts as he tries to grab the pillow. “You’re like twelve. You’re not even a teenager yet. Runt!”

“Jackass!” Dustin shouts back just as the doorbell rings. “I’m fourteen! Now go answer the door!”

“You answer the door,” Steve huffs, grabbing the pillow from Dustin and tossing it to the side. He flops back over Dustin, stretching his arms out to the side, and sighs. “This is your idea, so handle it.”

“I’m trying to help you,” Dustin groans as the doorbell rings again. “I know you don’t have that much experience with it but this is me trying to be a friend.”

“Very fucking funny,” Steve mutters, jerking his elbow back into Dustin’s stomach. He relaxes a little bit more and closes his eyes as Dustin shifts around until he’s laying flat beneath Steve. “Ever think that I don’t want to talk to them? That I’m not actually friends with them?”

“Then tell them to fuck off,” Dustin replies. They stop ringing the doorbell and switch to knocking. “And continue living the life of a lonely hermit before you get arrested for hanging out with kids all the time.”

Steve almost laughs before finally pushing himself up and off the floor. He doesn’t bother helping Dustin stand up, just makes his way to the door while trying to keep his heart from crawling up into his throat. He shouldn’t be worried. He’s perfectly capable of talking to them but knowing all that doesn’t make him reach for the doorknob. It doesn’t even let him peep out the window just to make sure it’s the Byers and Wheeler siblings at the door and not some crazy scientist looking to tie up loose ends. 

Mike pounds on the door with a closed fist as he shouts, “Open the damn door, Steve!”

Steve jumps a little and hates himself for it. He crosses his arms and straightens his back before shouting through the door, “Go away, little Wheeler.”

“I’m almost as tall as you are!” Mike shouts back, pounding on the door again. “We know that Dustin is in there so open the door!”

“You know you’re almost as much of an asshole as your sister,” Steve shouts as he reaches to unlock the door. Someone beats him to it though, the lock clicking open and the door almost hitting him in the nose as it flies open. “What the fuck!”

“You should really think about moving your hide-a-key,” Nancy explains as she steps into the house, hands shoved into the pockets of her windbreaker. Steve rolls his eyes and copies her stance, shoving his hands into his pants pockets. “Plus I figured I might as well live up to my reputation as an asshole and just let myself in.”

“Yeah, well, you know you’re my favorite asshole,” Steve mutters, knowing full-well what he sounds like. Nancy pauses and looks at him with wide eyes but Steve just smirks until she rolls her eyes. Steve turns to look at the kids only to find that they must have scurried into the house when he wasn’t paying attention. Which leaves him alone with Nancy  _ and _ Jonathan in literally a year. 

“We know Dustin didn’t warn you about dinner,” Nancy says after a long minute. Steve isn’t surprised that she’s the one to step in - she’s never been one to tolerate awkward moments of silence. “We don’t have to stay.”

“Didn’t think you’d want to anyways,” Steve says with a shrug. He gestures over his shoulder towards the rest of the house. “I know that dipshit was just looking out for me or whatever. So. No harm, no foul, right?”

“Right,” Nancy says, giving Steve a tight lipped smile that still manages to reach her eyes. Her big eyes almost looked pleased to be standing in his entryway being told to go home. “We should still get a pizza one day or something.”

Steve frowns. Pizza wasn’t something they did. Not in Hawkins at least. The best pizza place was a couple towns over and Nancy had always reserved it for their date nights. Steve looks at Jonathan who's been silent this whole exchange which doesn’t surprise Steve in the least. What catches him off-guard, what damn near knocks him off his feet, is Jonathan has been looking at Steve the whole time. 

Steve knows how intense Jonathan’s stare can be but he’s rarely found himself the focus of that stare. Not the way he used to stare at Nancy. Not like this. Steve scratches the back of his neck and tries to clear his throat without it being obvious that he’s all choked up over something stupid like Jonathan looking at him. 

“What do you say, Byers?” Steve asks finally but his voice comes out high pitched and wrong. Jonathan raises his eyebrows and Steve feels like some preteen dweeb asking out his first girl. Nancy smothers a smile and clenches her hands in front of her. “Pizza night, soon?”

“Sure,” Jonathan says with a nod. He doesn’t wait for Steve to say much else before slowly backing out of the house. Steve watches him go with a frown on his face but does nothing to stop him. 

“He’s just worried about his mom,” Nancy explains quickly, reaching out to touch Steve’s forearm. It’s a barely there brush of her fingers against his skin but it sends the hair on the back of his neck to standing. “Being back here and alone and all that.”

“Of course,” Steve says with a nod. He blinks away the stark reminder of Hop being gone and sniffs loudly. “You better go after him then. I’ll drop the brats off.”

Nancy reaches out again and grabs his forearm with more purpose this time, squeezing tight and letting her fingers linger as she pulls away. Steve stands mutely in the doorway as they climb into Jonathan’s car. There’s something on the tip of his tongue, something that he could say to keep them with him, but it never finds its way past his lips.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> we're all locked up and i did a live stream of the class and i'm feeling very odd so i wanted to get this posted before i self implode for the night.


End file.
